The Legend of Zelda: The Shattered Sword
by Liam Trotman
Summary: Thirty years after the events of Skyward Sword, the world is in peril once again. The Lesser Dragon Order, led by the evil Rinn Orlac, has hindered Zelda's attempts at unifying the surface. With Link gone, a new hero must rise to the occasion and finish what was started. The first story in the Hero of Men trilogy.
1. From the Author

**From the Author**

The Shattered Sword is intended to be not only a sequel to Skyward Sword, it is also supposed to serve as a stand-alone story that's accessible for Zelda fans and non-Zelda fans alike. The Hero of Men trilogy will serve as a backstory exploring the truth about some past events recollected in not only the Minish Cap, but other Zelda games as well. The story is told from the point of view of various characters, and the thoughts of the characters are based on not only their individual personalities, but also information they know or have been told.

For example, if a character doesn't know another character's name, they describe them until a name is found out. Since most fan fiction stories are being read by fans of the series, writers can introduce Link, or Zelda, or Malon and readers know exactly who that means without any further description. That's not the approach I've taken in this story, but there's nothing wrong with that approach. I enjoy those stories as well. Most of the characters appearing are original creations, while some are interpretations of characters fans know like Link and Zelda.

A character's understanding of historical events may be shaped by the stories they've been told as opposed to the information found in the preceding games (in this case Skyward Sword). It doesn't mean that the character is contradicting something from the game, the character being incorrect merely represents a disconnect between the truth and what they've been told. An unreliable narrator, to put it simply. I feel like there are many instances of this dynamic in the games. Of course, The Legend of Zelda is all fictional, so "truth" simply means something confirmed in the games or other canon material. I am trying my best to be consistent with what was established in the games.

Although I will admit I am mainly interpreting things from the games that are debatable and unconfirmed. Such as how exactly the story of the Picori Blade and the Hero of Men actually played out. It may not be as straight forward as the oral history of the Minish Cap suggests. I aim to tell stories that feel true to the fans, but I feel to best enjoy this story one must read it with an open mind and leave their prior knowledge of Hyrule somewhere safe. Where they can come back to it once they've read the story and see how they feel about what they've read. Some of my story decisions are bold, and I don't begrudge anybody for not being into the kind of twists and turns I've written/ intend to write.

My ultimate goal once the story is finished is to pitch this to Nintendo as either a story to adapt into a film or series. At the very least see if I can get authorization to publish it. For that to prove successful, my attention to detail and the overall feel of the story inevitably has to stand up to the scrutiny of casual readers and hardcore Zelda fans. That's where you as the reader come in. I'm not arrogant enough to think I always get things right, I welcome constructive criticism or corrections about where I may have gotten the lore of the games wrong. I thank you for taking the time to read this story.

Update 9/8/2018 - Thank you for the reviews so far! I've taken the suggestions I've got into consideration and updating the story as I go.

Update 02/01/2020 - My continued appreciation to all of my readers. I have restructured quite a bit of the story, so please give the story another read!

-Liam Trotman


	2. Prologue - Jaspo the Farmhand

**Prologue**

The night was dark, and the rains seemed to come like never before. Jaspo was barely able to keep his lantern lit. Hollowing the pumpkins and carving a face into them was a tradition that Jaspo never understood, but with a little groove to hold a candle they made effective lanterns. Light and heat in exchange for the company of a face forever frozen in a twisted laugh. It was rumored that the scavengers used the lanterns to ward off the beasts that dwelled within the forest, but Jaspo had hoped they were just tall tales.

Captain Likra's insanity was starting to frighten him. Jaspo could hear the captain yelling at San the Mender inside the captain's cabin. A creaky ship, a farmhand, a mender, and a captain who terrified him…he did not like this one bit. Jaspo couldn't imagine what the boy had done to earn this tongue lashing, but as the captain and the boy made their way back onto the deck Jaspo quickly regained composure. He couldn't imagine what the Captain might do if he figured out he'd been attempting to eavesdrop. The off-silver color in the Captain's eyes was almost as menacing as the beasts that waited for them on the shore.

Growth had been generous with Jaspo, he stood taller than both Captain Likra and San the Mender. He had dreamed in his youth of becoming a knight, his height would have made him a fierce competitor, a fierce defender. The animals loved him as well, before he was old enough to hold a sword his destiny as a farmhand was set. Of course, his father was a respected knight before the fall of Hyrule. Occasionally when the dogs, keatons, sheep, and other farm animals had gone down for a nap he'd use a stick for a sword and pretend he was the last great defender of Hyrule.

Despite his height, Captain Likra had always scared him. The old man's appearance was almost as unpleasant as his temperament. His eyes were a bright grey, almost silver. His hair and beard had grown white as he had grown older, his skin was dark and coarse as he was always outside training with his matching short-swords. The passing of Jaspo's father months prior had put him on this boat tonight, he usually just helped load the barrels.

Keeping the peace became harder and harder every year. Jaspo was only a child when his father Javet made the deal with the Demon Tribe: Nulea provided the kingdom's occupying force with enough food to last until the next season and there would be peace. The deal had kept he and his younger sister Nina out of harm's way for thirteen years. His older brother Raif however, was not so lucky.

The lack of resources had led the Demon Tribe to attack the neighboring settlements outside the kingdom. Jaspo's brother Raif had been killed during a raid, but he barely remembered the night. He remembered his father's grief more than anything. His father was a proud knight once, a sworn defender of Hyrule, but the disappearance of the royal family and the war waged by the followers of Demise had forced him to make the decision to flee the kingdom. He didn't want to lose his entire family, but he still wound up losing a son. "Sometimes the best men meet terrible fates" his father said once.

Until he was six years old, Jaspo remembered going to sleep scared and waking up scared. The men of the Demon Tribe were unmatched in battle, but when it came to growing their own food they were not so skilled. There were a lot of mouths to feed between the men, Moblins, and Bokoblins they used to torment the settlements of Hyrule. Jaspo never heard much about Moblins growing up, but the Bokoblins he knew all too well from the raids. Their eyes were black, their noses short, their ears large, every feature looked out of place on their bodies. They were small fortunately, not very dangerous on their own but a group of them could raze entire villages to the ground in a matter of hours.

The Demon Tribe typically collected their tribute from Nulea last, or so they had suspected. Given the desert just west of the castle and the unpredictable climate of the northern settlements through the mountain ranges, Jaspo often wondered how much those settlements could contribute. The south was much warmer and much more humid, great for exotic fruits but Jaspo couldn't imagine trying to raise livestock in those conditions. This year's harvest of human food was nearly too short to feed the villagers, hopefully Hale would understand their share was going to be smaller this year. _Goddesses help us if they're not pleased._

Red eyes were all around them, drops of blood upon a black canvas, lit only by the faintest hope of moonlight. The world was always dark when it rained, thick gray clouds always held the light of the moon just out of reach. The primal beasts of the forest were enough of an incentive to stay within the limits of Nulea, but Jaspo knew on the shoreline, awaited the most feared of all these beasts…men.

The followers of the Demon King Demise were the most feared men in existence. With less than fifty men and the leadership of Demise, the tribe destroyed Hyrule. What they lacked in numbers they made up a hundred-fold in their ferocity. Their prowess in battle led fifty men to defeat hundreds of Hylian soldiers. His father had fought the Demon Tribe the day they overran Hyrule Castle.

His father told him the story only once, but he would never forget it. What a castle it was, Hyrule's ancestral seat, he remembered his father's descriptions very clearly. Jaspo had often dreamed of the four towers that stood for each point of the compass, the silk tapestries in the Great Hall of Kings, the smell of sweet wine during the hot summer days, the statues of Hyrule's bravest defenders, and the great dome ceiling of the dining hall. His father had said the greatest artists from all over the world came to Hyrule once every year for the Sunrise Festival and added a new painting to the dome.

Though, the thing he dreamed of most was the Steel Garden. Thousands had knelt as men and risen as knights before the stony eyes of their creators in the heart of the courtyard. The Steel Garden was built by King Hyrule I, the design of the garden was an homage to the three goddesses: Close to the Northern wall a statue of Din, the Goddess of Power was flanked by a massive torch that by royal decree was to burn day and night until the end of time. The tile floor of the sparring pit sat directly in front of the statue of Din and was a pale blue for the Goddess of Wisdom, Nayru. The sparring pit was encircled by a large green pedestal known as Farore's Stone, hundreds of feet long representing Farore, the Goddess of Courage.

To end the knighting ceremony, each knight retired their sparring sword by thrusting it into Farore's Stone. Thinking about it brought about a bittersweet feeling. He had to face the reality that his father was gone, and the castle of Hyrule was little more now than a ruin. Only his father's story remained. Queen Zelda had lost her life that day, the next victims of the Demon Tribe were to be the King and his three children. The children had fled with one of the Royal Guards to the north tower of Hyrule castle.

The Demon Tribe had laid siege to Hyrule castle, the final maneuver to overpower the kingdom's defenses and take the Triforce. Their victory was made possible by the traitor Ifga LeFalco. The only member of the Sheikah clan to ever betray his sacred duty to protect the sacred power of the three goddesses: The Triforce. Jaspo didn't know much about the Triforce, the people of Nulea who were old enough to remember the old world couldn't recall if it was merely a superstition or something that actually existed.

The histories never had accounted for the king and his children. Jaspo always wondered if he had seen them, posing as commoners, trading in the villages around Nulea. He had never known what the royal family looked like, so it felt entirely possible. He loved the idea that someday the rightful heirs would inherit the throne in Hyrule, that fate would not see them perish.

"Jaspo." He heard Likra's scratchy voice. "Yes Captain?" Jaspo responded. "If this goes sour, I want you to use this." Captain Likra handed him a sword. "I don't know what to do with this." Jaspo said nervously. "You won't use it, it's just for show. Orlac always sends Hale and two Bokoblins to the pickups from Nulea. They're as dumb as they are ugly and they're slow, I think a farmer and repairman should be able to hold their own." Captain Likra's words startled him, as he was convinced the Captain would have killed him himself had he refused to take the sword.

Jaspo could see torches in the distance. They were fast approaching the landing. San the Mender came out of the cabin, to join Jaspo and Captain Likra on the deck of the ship. As they drew nearer to the landing Jaspo could make out several figures on the shoreline. Some were definitely human, some were more likely Bokoblins. Seven in total.

Seven? Likra had just said there would only be three, Jaspo's stomach turned. It had been a much colder year than any he had ever remembered, they must have been expecting a bad shipment. Two years after the deal had been sealed between Javet and Orlac, Talo the head of the farms, had tried to cheat the Demon Tribe by grinding sawdust into the wheat to create more barrels.

"We're always the last settlement to pay tribute. It's likely they won't get to our barrels before they go bad. They'll never know" Jaspo remembered Talo telling his father. Rinn Orlac escorted that ship back to Nulea and returned to Hyrule castle with Talo's left hand. Not to mention all of the wheat that had been harvested that year.

"They can tell by the weather we're low on food, you think they'd be able to farm for themselves by now." Likra sneered. The men of the Demon Tribe, as ferocious and bloodthirsty as they were, were not quite savages. Their sense of discipline and their methods were quite organized and sensible. The Green tunic signified leadership. Each other color represented a different mastery of their mysterious arts. Orlac alone entered Nulea and left without so much as a scratch, he shuddered at the thought of what three men and a few Bokoblins could do.

Each boy began training at a very young age, they wear a blue tunic to signify their status as a novice. The blue tunic was the beginning, then red, then green. The only exception being Rinn Orlac himself who wore a purple tunic. Each new tunic is earned through sweat and blood. It was whispered that the Tribe replenished their ranks by kidnapping boys from southern and western villages outside of Hyrule, and it would seem that the rumor was true.

One of the men garbed in green didn't appear to be much older than Jaspo. Fourteen and wearing a green tunic? The sight made him nervous, the skill of a seasoned warrior combined with the impulse and unpredictable nature of a young man. He grasped the hilt of the sword, but a little voice inside reminded him that it wouldn't help him if Hale wasn't pleased. Well-muscled and stone faced, Hale's appearance was fierce enough to turn a cool summer's breeze into an icy omen.

The flames of torches vanished into his dark brown eyes, blood was stained upon his green tunic, and water dripped sparingly from his slick black hair. The rain had stopped, but the ground was still soaked. The boat stopped rocking as they reached their final destination. The three men in green approached them.

"You're late." Hale said, his irritation bled through his distinct accent. "Took on water, you understand I'm sure." Captain Likra said. If Hale frightened him he did a great job of hiding it. "Why are there so many of you? Do a few farmers frighten you so much?" Captain Likra japed.

Hale was not amused by Likra's quip, Jaspo began to tremble as the cold night air set in. On the ship, it had been more tolerable in the presence of the lanterns but now the faces of the carved pumpkins sat as spectators, glowing and snickering in the distance at the frigid scene. The Bokoblins looked upon Jaspo as a falcon would look upon a mouse. He knew he was prey, and with one wrong move the predators would claim their prize.

"I'm no fool Likra, it's been a cold season, but it isn't THAT cold. I don't have to look inside to know the rations aren't even the minimum. I'm insulted that Talo thinks he can offer so little and I won't know he's cheating us." The words echoed in the dark emptiness that surrounded them. "The last time we visited Nulea-" Likra cut him off.

"The last time any of you took a boat ride to Nulea, I was not your captain. And you may strike fear into the hearts of defenseless old men but not me." Jaspo could not believe Likra's courage. It had become clear why such a decorated, yet discarded knight had chosen to sail to Kakariko landing over a good night's sleep in a warm bed. He wondered if Likra was at all frightened.

Jaspo was so focused on the exchange between Likra and Hale, he hadn't noticed the Bokoblins had gotten much closer to where he was standing. The sound of a single scream and a sickening thud snapped Jaspo back into reality. He turned to see two Bokoblins beating San with their clubs. Captain Likra drew his twin swords as the two men accompanying Hale drew their swords.

"For the insult, I think taking the boy's life is more than fair. We can't have you forgetting who's in charge." Hale said. The silver Bokoblin walked away from San and moved closer to Jaspo. Would Likra surrender? Jaspo waited for what seemed like hours for Likra to give the tribesman his answer.

"Who wants to die first?" Likra shouted as he raised his swords. "You don't have to do this old man, put those swords down and I'll only take one of your hands with me for that remark." Hale sneered. Enemies had surrounded them. The remaining Bokoblins turned their attention to Jaspo, satisfied with the beating they had given San the Mender.

Jaspo drew his sword and prepared for the impending attack, he stood back to back with Likra. The two men in green shirts leapt into action, Jaspo could only hear the clash of steel as he raised his own sword to parry a Bokoblin club. He exchanged a few blows with the slow creatures and the fear started to fade. Their hits were powerful, but Jaspo had enough reach to keep himself clear of them.

All four Bokoblins now surrounded him, as one lunged from directly in front of him he felt his legs go from under him. The Bokoblins had surrounded him, one of them had caught him off guard from the left. He was numb for a split second, but as he hit the ground the pain seemed to hit him harder than his enemy did. He feared his left leg was broken by the force of the hit, and his sword had been knocked far beyond arm's reach.

When Jaspo looked down he couldn't see the bones shifting in his shin, maybe it wasn't broken but it hurt too much to put weight on. He tried to crawl away from the Bokoblins, but his efforts were in vain. The pain shot through his body as three red fingers grasped the ankle of his left leg. He looked up, he was being held in place while the silver Bokoblin raised his club to deliver the killing blow.

The silver Bokoblin dropped the club as a blade pierced his chest from behind. San the Mender stood where the Bokoblin had fallen, bloodied and disoriented he was still alive. The other three Bokoblins rushed him, but he managed to stab one other before they all collided with him. Jaspo watched as San fell to the ground, wrestling the two beasts with everything he had left.

A few feet away, Jaspo could see Captain Likra still fighting the two green shirted men. They were quick, but Likra wasn't slowing as he parried and returned strikes. He watched on as Likra defended himself from the attackers. Hale continued to watch them trade blows with Likra until the other two men backed off. Hale drew his sword and lunged at Likra.

Jaspo was tempted to see the two expert fighters hack away at each other, but he remembered the last time he took his eyes off of the other threats. San's body lay lifeless as the other Bokoblins stood and began to step away from his body. Jaspo watched in horror as the two remaining Bokoblins joined the tribesmen and swarmed Likra. He was no match for all of the attackers.

As Likra parried strikes from Hale, the two men in green took their daggers and each decorated Likra's back with holes. One of the Bokoblins hit Likra in his head, he lost consciousness and fell, his blood pooling beneath him. Jaspo knew that they had made a terrible mistake. Whatever plan Likra had was certainly a failure.

The tribesmen headed into the boat. Jaspo feared for his sister and mother, they would most certainly be killed. If Likra hadn't drawn his swords and let the Hale's show of force go uncontested, the tribesmen probably would have just sailed back to Nulea and taken most of the food. Most of the food, not all, certainly surviving on a little less was preferable to being murdered. "There's always next season" he thought to himself.

Jaspo could see the three men and the Bokoblins were no longer paying any attention to him. They must have thought he was dead. He looked towards the boat, Hale was rolling barrels out of the boat and onto the shore, sufficient or not he was certainly taking what he saw. One of the men in green was nowhere to be found while the other gave rations of bread and meat to the Bokoblins, which they accepted and then sat to eat. Jaspo began to wonder how well the tribesmen actually led the Bokoblins, were they obedient or just responding to bribes of food?

With the Bokoblins seated, the other man in green returned with a wagon pulled by four horses. The two men in green loaded the barrels onto the wagon, when Jaspo noticed red barrels on the ship. Jaspo had forgotten that food wasn't all that Nulea offered in exchange for peace, there was also medicine, clothes, and bomb powder if it was requested. Jaspo's stomach turned thinking of what a stray spark from a lantern could have done to him during the voyage.

Jaspo knew that if the three men and the Bokoblins took the ship back to Nulea, those barrels would be put to use against people he knew and cared about. The thought horrified him. He heard rustling in the grass nearby and looked to see Likra's body moving slightly. Likra lifted his head and looked directly at Jaspo.

"End this. Take a candle out of a lantern if you have to, and end this." Likra whispered as he laid his head back down. Even in his weakened state, he still feared Likra and didn't question his orders. He attempted to stand and found the pain in his leg was fading. He hobbled as quietly as he could, if they saw him then it was all over. He crouched behind a bush to hide from them.

He was close, all he had to do was throw a torch into a barrel and the village would be safe. He stood to see the tribesmen were no longer aboard. He looked to the right of the ship and saw the younger man close to the water filling a canteen, Hale and the other were now both on the wagon. "Wait with the ship, we will be back for the rest in the morning." Hale called to the man by the ship.

The man near the water nodded his head in affirmation. "Burn the bodies before you go to sleep." Hale yelled back as the other two men rode away on the wagon. The man turned around, Jaspo ducked to not be seen. Burn the bodies? Jaspo knew he needed to hurry.

The man got closer, but Jaspo realized he hadn't yet been seen. Jaspo got a better look at his face and realized they were probably same age. The same age maybe, but the two young men were very different. If he could just figure out how to get the torch away from the man in green, then he could probably get away from him fast enough to ignite the bomb powder aboard the ship.

The man walked over to where San's body was and used the torch to light it on fire. Then the man proceeded to walk over to Likra's body, he lowered the torch to light the body but was taken by surprise as Likra sprang into action, grabbing his ankles and pulling his feet right out from under him. Likra and the man began exchanging blows on the ground.

"Jaspo! Now!" Likra shouted as he wrestled with the man in green. Jaspo hesitated, completely shocked that Likra had survived this long he managed to find himself and ran towards the torch. He picked it up and began to hobble towards the boat but didn't make it far before he heard footsteps behind him.

The man in green stood above Likra's body. Jaspo didn't know whether Likra was finally dead or just knocked unconscious but he knew he was in no position to find out. Jaspo's heart raced and he began to panic, the man in green was rushing toward him. Jaspo backed up, but he was losing ground. The man in green raised his sword to strike but Jaspo countered using the torch. The man went to step back but lost his footing on the slick grass, he fell backwards.

Jaspo seized the opportunity and used the torch to hit him in the shoulder with all of his might. Jaspo was aiming for his head, but the man moved quickly and took the blow in the shoulder. With the tribesman dazed, Jaspo ran toward the barrels. The pain in his leg shot through his body with every step but he continued to race forward. Once he reached the shoreline he realized he wasn't going to get a better shot.

He looked behind to see the man in green back on his feet and racing towards him. He turned back around and pulled his arm back, readying the throw. He took a deep breath and let the torch fly. He realized he was too close to the ship to escape the blast, but he felt at ease in his final moment. Jaspo felt the heat expand and he shut his eyes, the world went black.


	3. Part One: Chapter One

**Link**

"Wake up…Wake up…" Link awoke in darkness. This was the fifth time this month she'd been woken by the voice. It was faint, something she recognized but she couldn't place. The other women she knew didn't sound anything like it, and as far back as she could remember, she was only woken up in the morning by her father. Her mother always slept into the later hours of morning.

Her father had been visiting his cousins out west. He tolerated them less and less as the years went by. This is longer than he'd been gone since she was much younger. For the past month or so her days consisted of cleaning kennels on the edge of the village and not much else. She threw on her shirt and trousers and headed outside.

She could see the sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon. It was chilly outside, she should have brought her coat, but she would only be outside for a few minutes. She walked down the hill to the river below and splashed some water on her face. The rising sun illuminated the water below her. She saw her own reflection in the water, her skin was beginning to become paler from working inside.

She missed walking the dogs and helping to train them, but that job wasn't meant to be permanent. She wasn't very good at disciplining the dogs, but she did enjoy getting to play with them. She scooped up a handful of water and took a drink. She was lucky to live so close to the freshest water on this side of the kingdom.

Oacca Village had been her home for the past twelve years. Her father had moved them there from Kline Village after her mother passed away. Her childhood memories were scarce, but she remembered the pumpkin soup her mother used to make. It smelled sweet, but also fishy. Whenever she was sick her mom would give it to her, and she'd feel better right away. Or at least that's how it felt.

Her dad said the recipe died with her mother. He wasn't much of a cook, not much with comforting words either. Oacca Village had no shortage of great cooks though, Link's best friend Victoria was one of the best in the entire village. When her father relocated them from Kline Village, Link remembered riding along with Victoria and her twin brother Celwyn. Her father and their father were good friends when he was alive.

She and Victoria were fast friends. They were almost the same age and had a lot of similarities. They both had blonde hair, they were both about the same height and thin. They'd stopped to rest in a few different villages on their way to Oacca and were constantly mistaken for sisters. Link's eyes were a bit more green than Victoria's and Victoria's hair was closer to brown. She liked to keep it cut just above the shoulders.

Link was really shy when they first met. She hadn't seen girls her own age before. Kline Village had barely any children at all, and after her mother died her father felt like being around other children might help cheer her up. Link had first met Victoria's twin brother Celwyn. He was much taller than both of them and far more intimidating. He was a splitting image of his sister then, now at seventeen he only shared her eyes. Though he had always been handsome, he was now a few heads taller and much more refined. He had become a man.

Link didn't respond to Victoria when she first tried to talk with her. During their first stop in a village near Lake Floria, Victoria invited Link into the woods. Link couldn't sleep, and since her dad trusted them, Link figured she was safe following Victoria where ever she was trying to lead her. Link wasn't sure where they were headed but she felt at ease making her way through the woods. Their destination was a small pond.

There was nothing special about the pond, it sat at the bottom of a hill. Victoria took off her boots and waded into the water, and she beckoned Link to follow. Link hesitantly took of her boots and went in too. The water was cold, she didn't want to stay in it for long. Victoria took her hand.

Link noticed that Victoria had a small bottle in her other hand. "Wait for it…." Victoria said. She whistled a soothing melody, and the water began to light up with a soft pink glow. From the water, fairies came. Dozens of them.

Victoria stayed still, unphased by their newfound company. Victoria leaned closer to a nearby fairy and quickly swiped at it with the bottle, catching it. She put the lid on the bottle and handed it to Link.

Link was impressed, she didn't know what to do. She took the bottle and opened it, releasing the fairy. "You try!" Victoria whispered. Link tried to catch a fairy but wasn't fast enough. "Darn!" Link whispered. "You can talk after all." Victoria said and giggled.

Link was broken out of her memory by the sound of footsteps approaching. "Who's there?" Link asked. The bushes rustled but she couldn't make out what it could be. She crept over to the bushes, on guard, and before she could get there she felt an icy blast.

Whatever it was in the bushes, it had doused her in cold water. The figure ran out of the bushes laughing. It was Victoria's little brother Gus. Now twelve years old, he was a far cry from the infant he was when Link had met their family. But even though he was getting older he had plenty of maturing to do. She chased after him.

He ran around the corner of the armory and she lost sight of him. Oacca Village wasn't very big and there was really only one path through the village. There weren't many places he could hide. Link went to the back of the armory and climbed onto the roof using the weather vane. Up here she got a better view of the village but couldn't see Gus.

Link's focus was broken by a voice. "Hello up there!" It was one of the village's elders, Swift. Swift was about the same age as her father. He was much thinner but just as weathered. "Come down from there!" He shouted.

Link carefully walked over to where the roof was closest to the ground and hopped down. She headed over to where Swift was standing. Link had always had a desire to climb whatever she could, something that her father and the village elders largely disapproved of. Whenever she'd accompany her father on hunts she was allowed, but she knew her father preferred that she keep her feet on the ground.

"Aran has been missing for six days now." Swift said, Link was surprised she wasn't being scolded for climbing. Aran was Victoria's dog, well her mother's anyway. He had been a part of Oacca Village longer than just about any other villager. When Mr. Swift and Victoria's mother helped settle Oacca village, Aran was right there by their side. "When you finish your chores, I want you and Victoria to help me look for him."

Aran was black with splotches of grey on his head and legs. He'd always looked more like a wolf than a dog, but he was friendly. When Link was younger, she'd spend entire days with Celwyn and Victoria chasing Aran around the village. Jovan, the recently deceased kennel master said he was unlike any other dog he'd ever seen, he never had to be trained.

She returned to her cabin to change her clothes. She remembered how cold it was and put on a warm doublet. With fresh clothes on, she set out for the other side of the village where the kennels were. She found herself on the same dirt road she'd walked for the past twelve years.

Not too far from her house sat Buck's house. Buck was regarded as one of the most talented musicians in the region, or at least, that's what he would claim. His instrument of choice looked like a hollowed potato, he called it an ocarina. Link could see the glow of a lantern through his window, he must not be out of bed yet.

The dogs began whining and she could hear their rustling as she got closer to the kennel, they must recognize the sound of her footsteps. The kennel had just been built a few years prior, the wooden structure still looked pristine on the outside. Guard dogs were a suggestion of one of the chieftains of Hudson Village about fifteen miles west. Oacca Village hadn't been personally visited by the Demon Tribe since before she moved there, but they couldn't let their guard down.

She opened the door and was rushed by a swarm of excited puppies. The mother was protective of her recent litter. Link had to make sure to give her attention as well. There had been six in this litter, all had survived. On average two pups wouldn't make it past their first few days but all of these had grown nicely over the past few weeks.

Victoria wasn't in the kennel, she must have been out back. Link made her way to the back door, careful not to let any of the pups out. Victoria was by the waterfront soaking the wash rags. "Good morning." Victoria said as Link shut the door.

Link joined her in front of the water. "Sorry, I would have been here sooner, but your brother decided to play a prank." Link said apologetically. "I normally have started by now. We have our work cut out for us." She continues.

"Well there are two of us, we can handle it." Victoria reassured her. "You had that dream, again didn't you?" Link nodded her head hesitantly at the abrupt change of subject. Link sometimes hated the way Victoria could always tell. She knew Link better than she knew herself sometimes.

"Have you ever seen her face? The woman who's speaking to you?" Victoria asked. "No, it's just a voice in the darkness. She sounds kind." Link responded. It was the truth, despite the mysterious nature of the one calling out to her, it was peaceful. "Why do you ask?" Victoria was normally not so curious.

"I asked Namtor about it, and he gave me a book about visions and strange dreams." Victoria responded. "Was there anything in there that could be helpful?" Link was curious. She wasn't afraid of the dreams, but she wanted to know what they could mean.

"There wasn't much, but I can bring the book to your house and you can see what it says for yourself. There wasn't much about strange voices. Maybe when your father gets back he can tell you some stories about my mother." Victoria said.

"Swift told me my mother had the same kind of dreams. They were more like visions. She could see things that had happened long ago. Your dad knew her better than anyone else in Oacca." Victoria had lost her mother a few years before Link had moved to Oacca Village. She remembered her mother about as well as Link remembered hers, another thing they had in common. At least Victoria was close with her step-mother Miss Tami.

The dogs whined. "I can tell you more about it later. Let's finish these chores before your father returns." Victoria said. After a few hours of scrubbing and sweeping, Link found herself locking up the kennel. The chores were done and it was almost noon."We finished quicker than I thought we would." Victoria said as she tightened her dark blue coat.


	4. Part One: Chapter Two

**Hale**

Hale was woken by a feather pillow hitting his head. "It's time." Mato informed him, standing in the doorway. Hale groggily arose and donned his tunic. He slung his sword around his shoulder and slicked his hair back with a dab of oil. How long had he slept? Three hours? Four hours? He wasn't sure.

He and Mato weren't done unloading the shipment until almost sunrise. His tunic was still soaked from the rain and his own sweat. He hadn't expected a fight the night before, but he was pleasantly surprised to get one. The settlements were much more resistant to paying tributes in the beginning, but lately he'd felt bored by how easily the settlements were giving in.

Hale left his sleeping quarters and after traversing the narrow hallway into the atrium, found himself face to face with Deryk. Deryk was one of Hale's oldest friends, not too much younger and about the same height. Like Hale, Deryk became a part of the Lesser Dragon Order when it was founded. As opposed to Hale's dark brown eyes, Deryk's were blue. He wore a red tunic, and had been one of the northern patrolmen until he lost his left arm.

He was still well built despite the fact he no longer went out and made collections. During the slow months when the shipments were scarcer, Deryk would help train younger boys. He had lost his arm, but not his wits. He was still a formidable opponent with a one-handed sword. Orlac insisted that Deryk stay in the castle and learn to read and write so he could manage inventory. He was now proficient with books and with swords.

"So, you and Mato have twenty barrels of wheat left?" Deryk asked as he reviewed the sheet of paper in his hand. "Something like that. We didn't count to see how many of the remaining barrels were wheat and how many were bomb powder." Hale replied. The fight with Likra had distracted him. Normally he was much better at keeping track of what each shipment was. His good memory was one of the things that helped him advance through the ranks.

"Bomb powder?" Deryk asked, dumbfounded. "I don't think we asked for that. Are you sure?" Deryk asked as if Hale was somehow unsure of what he'd seen with his own two eyes.

"Yes. Red barrels." Hale responded, put off by his own friend's lack of faith in him. "I'll ask Orlac. Maybe he sent word to Nulea and didn't tell me." Deryk said, walking away from Hale. Hale had always found it odd that he never got a list of what the settlements should have been delivering.

On the other hand, the shipments were dependent upon what the settlements were able to produce, so it wouldn't be productive to nitpick what they offered. Hale understood that, but the villagers could never know. The slightest sign of weakness could ruin the arrangement. Hale excelled as an enforcer, even if the job was becoming monotonous.

Hale headed toward the outer gate of the castle, Mato would have certainly made his way to the carriage by now. Any opportunity to leave the castle town and get away for a bit was always welcome. As he walked outside the morning sun beat down on his face. Just yesterday there was a terrible thunderstorm, and now here it was a beautiful day. Hale saw the carriage where Mato was waiting.

Mato was sitting in one of the passenger seats, his head back and his face covered with a folded blanket. Hale didn't blame the young man for getting some quick shuteye. Hale climbed into the other seat, waking Mato as he climbed in. Mato arose abruptly and faced Hale ready to receive reprimand.

"Sorry for falling asleep, Hale." He said. "It's alright." Hale responded. "It's a long ride back to the landing. You're not supposed to sleep on the trip there and back but…" Hale said. "But what?" Mato responded.

"You had a blanket over your face, I couldn't see what you were doing." Hale said and winked at Mato. The youth laid his head back and shut his eyes. Hale looked to his right and saw that Mato had brought a basket of hard bread with them. He took a piece and ate it as they rode toward the landing.

As the carriage set out, they began their ride through the old castle town. The townsfolk had come a long way in rebuilding the buildings after the siege fifteen years ago. Hale remembered the first time he saw the town square, it was in flames and flooded with Bokoblins. Today, vendors sold and exchanged goods. Hale could smell soup cooking at one of the inns.

The carriage left the castle's walls, and yet again Hale set his eyes upon the waste that was Hyrule Field. The hours passed, and as the carriage grew closer to the landing Hale could see smoke in the distance. Far too much for just a campfire. He woke Mato. "Something's wrong, boy." Hale said as he pointed to the distant smoke. "We need to stay on guard." Hale said.

They arrived at the landing and saw debris from the ship everywhere. The barrels had bomb powder in them alright. The thunder from the previous night must have masked the sound of the explosion. It's possible Garrett accidentally got too close with his torch, or maybe lightning struck a barrel. Could something else have happened? Hale halted the horses and jumped out to investigate the scene.

Closer to the water, Hale could see where the explosion had happened. The ground was charred, nearby was the body of someone too short to be Garrett. Hale's stomach turned, he'd left Garrett alone and he was attacked. Garrett was one of Rinn Orlac's sons. It would be Hale's head if something happened to one of Orlac's sons and he was responsible.

"Hale!" Mato called out. Hale ran over to where Mato was kneeling down. Hale felt nauseous when he realized what Mato was trying to show him. Garrett was dead, his body was burned, charred beyond recognition. He was clearly killed by the explosion. Hale's heart began to race.

Orlac had already lost two other children: His only daughters. One was taken as an infant by a fever, the other killed during a raid. Orlac's second wife, Lliara, had fled the castle with the child, and managed to get about a day's head start on Orlac's hunting party.

It was alleged that Lliara was a descendant of the Jayari, a mysterious race of magic practitioners. They found her in some makeshift Jayari settlement, so it was probably true. Her heritage had led her back to her own people in the end. The fool Orlac trusted to bring them back tried to smoke them out of the house they were hiding in, and that was a fatal mistake.

When Orlac found out about their deaths, he rode to the village with Hale and a few other men, most of the villagers had gone by the time they arrived. The bodies had already been cleared from the fallen house and buried in a mass grave. After burning the rest of the village down and single handedly slaughtering every villager in sight, Orlac forced the chieftain of the village to dig the grave up and find his daughter's body.

Orlac buried his children by the Steel Garden where the rest of the fallen tribe members rested beneath the shadows of swords. Hale looked around, flustered and in the distance, he saw another body. "With me!" Hale commanded. Mato let Garrett's lifeless body fall to the ground, and followed, drawing his dagger. As Hale grew closer to the body and recognized it immediately.

Likra. Hale realized nobody confirmed the old man's death after he'd fallen. Overcome with anger, Hale stabbed the body repeatedly until Mato stopped him. "Hale, what should we-" Mato couldn't get the words out before Hale said somberly, "Get the body."

Mato lifted Garrett's remains and placed them in the back of the carriage and then climbed back into the passenger seat. He and Mato set out for the Castle. Hale's stomach was uneasy as it dawned on him that his next conversation with Orlac would likely be his last. As they rode away from the landing, Hale looked around a realized how many paths there were leading away from the castle. He could take any one of them and never stop running. There's a chance they'd never find him, but he knew Orlac would never stop looking.

Mato was a loyal boy, Hale would have to go through him to get away from the tribe. There was no point in running. Hale kept his eyes forward and continued on towards the castle. The next few hours were the longest of his life. Now the gates of the castle were in sight, and the smell of soup was gone. The north tower was casting a shadow over the pathway.

Lately Orlac had kept the windows of the throne room open. Hale wondered if Orlac was up there keeping an eye on the horizon. His personal chamber was on the tenth story, about a hundred feet above the dining hall. The castle grew closer and larger, before long they would be at its gate.


	5. Part One: Chapter Three

**Gustaf**

Gustaf tiptoed by the front door of his mother's cabin. He had to be quiet, the early afternoon was always devoted to her music. Seven days a week she sat down with her worn lyre and played, sometimes the same song over and over. Sometimes she would make up something new.

For as long as he could remember, she sang him to sleep. As he'd grown older, he'd become numb to her playing. He found himself leaving the house and finding something to get into in the village when she'd play. Now his old activities weren't as fun or interesting.

He figured he could sneak back in through the window while she was playing, but as he got closer to the house he heard nothing. His hair stood on end. Was she home? Was she awake? All she would need to do is look out the window and see that Gustaf had left the house while he was supposed to be grounded.

It wasn't fair that he was grounded anyway, all he did was put icing on a sponge and give it to his friend, Chabi, for his birthday. It looked just like a piece of cake, Gustaf wasn't given enough credit for being so artistic. After all, Chabi thought it was funny. He laughed after he spit out the second bite.

Gustaf ducked underneath the window in the den and made his way around the corner to his own. The latch was holding exactly as he'd left it. All he had to do was lift the window and climb back in without making a sound. He'd done it plenty of times before, it shouldn't be so hard to do one more time.

Gustaf lifted the window and raised his leg in, he could hear a small creak but probably not loud enough to be heard in the hallway. He lifted his other leg to finish climbing in, but he realized he wasn't moving. He looked at the sill and realized his trousers were hung on a nail. He could hear footsteps in the hall.

He fumbled with the trousers, trying his best to free himself. The footsteps grew closer. "Gus!" He heard his mother's voice say from the other side of the door. His pants ripped as he began to fall in through the window.

"Gus, are you awake?" His mother called. He hit the ground with a thud. She knows what he was doing, his mother always knows what he's doing. Gustaf expected his mother to fling the door open but the door stayed closed.

Maybe she didn't hear him. "I'm awake, mom!" Gus yelled, he couldn't think of anything to explain the thud. But she hadn't asked about it, maybe she wouldn't. "What was that noise?" She called.

He's going to be busted. He might as well just tell the truth, he looked around the room looking for an answer. Nothing. "Gus, did you hear me?" His mother yelled again.

"I ripped my pants!" He called. Why did he say that? Gustaf had never been very good at lying to his mother. He walked closer to the door and heard knocking from the den. "Clean your room. You're going to trip over something and break your arm again." His mother called as she walked away.

She loved reminding him how clumsy he was. He heard his mother go to the door and open it. "Good afternoon, may I come in?" A familiar voice, that of Mr. Swift. Oh he really was busted, he saw him. He must have, he knew for sure he was here to tell his mother what he'd seen.

His mother invited Mr. Swift in. "It's Aran, I know he's still missing. I have an idea, we may be able to find him." During the last week, he'd seen his mother act differently. Gustaf missed Aran too, but his mom was more affected by the disappearance.

The dog had been a part of the family as far back as Gustaf could remember. Sometimes, when he'd go to sleep Aran would lay at the foot of his bed and when he woke up Aran would be on top of his legs facing the door. He had always been a protective dog, Gustaf hoped he was okay.

"He has instincts, he hunts, he's run away for days before, I'm sure he's fine. He's out there, we can find him." Mr. Swift said. "He's thirteen years old, Swift. We all knew this day would come." Gustaf heard his mother say.

"He's healthy." Mr. Swift said. "You can't stop time." His mother said. Gustaf could hear his mother becoming frustrated. He's just a dog, they can get another one.

"What about Victoria?" Mr. Swift asked. "What about her?" His mother's voice was different, as if she knew what he was going to say next. "She could help me-" Mr. Swift didn't get to finish.

"No. Absolutely not. It's bad enough she sneaks off and helps Namtor write his journals, I'm not going to willingly let her-" "Please, you need to know for sure." Mr. Swift interrupted. "No! And that's final!" Gustaf's mother yelled.

"Okay, I won't force her to do anything." Mr. Swift said. Gustaf heard footsteps and then heard Mr. Swift leave. His mother began crying.

He wasn't busted after all. Gustaf breathed a sigh of relief knowing he at least wouldn't have time added to his restriction. Gustaf's relief was drowned by his mother's weeping. She would have been angry with him for sneaking out, but now she was sad and he felt like he had to do something.

Gustaf came out of his room. "Can I help Mr. Swift find Aran?" He asked. "How long were you listening to us? I guess we weren't exactly quiet." His mother responded, wiping her eyes.

"Honey, Aran has probably passed away." His mother put her hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes when dogs get old, they can sense that their time is coming. They'll run away from the people who love them." His mom continued.

"Why?" Gustaf asked. "I don't know. Maybe they think their death will make the people around them sad, and they do it to spare our feelings. Of course, we know it doesn't work that way, but animals don't think the way we do." His mother answered.

"He wasn't just my dog he was your father's as well." She didn't talk about his father often. Gustaf was born after he had gotten sick and died. "You look so much like him." She hugged him. "You and your brother and sister remind me so much of him, but when Aran was with me, it felt like he wasn't really gone."

Gustaf felt sad, he didn't realize how important Aran was to his family. "I'll find him, mom." Gustaf said. His mother broke the hug and looked him in the eyes. "Are you sure you're ready?" She asked.

"Of course!" Gustaf wanted her to know for sure, she deserved that. He kissed her on the cheek and went back to him room. If he was going out on an adventure, then he' need some supplies. He put on his boots and his coat and grabbed his dad's old satchel off of the wall. _Where to start first_?


	6. Part One: Chapter Four

**Hale**

Deryk stood by the gate, awaiting their return. The carriage halted, Deryk approached. "Where are the barrels?" Deryk asked. "We have a problem." Hale responded. It was the only thing he could think to say although it didn't do the situation justice. "Where's Orlac?" Hale asked nervously.

Deryk said nothing and beckoned Hale follow him. To Hale's surprise they weren't taking the stairs. Deryk led Hale out into the Steel Garden where Orlac himself was sparring with a boy in blue. The leader of the order was unmistakable. He stood taller than just about any other man Hale had ever seen. His hair was a dark brown, his eyes a bold emerald green. He kept a salt and pepper beard tightly cropped.

He was the leader of the Lesson Dragon Order, such a position made him the only member who could wear the purple tunic. Hale knew Orlac was the top of his chain of command, but he'd never gotten a good answer about how succession would work in the event of his death. By his own calculation he was the next most senior man in the Tribe, but Garrett was Orlac's son and a man grown, would he have taken over?

Orlac wasn't a king, and never claimed to be. He despised the idea of a monarchy, being a leader of men was a privilege to be earned in Orlac's eyes. Of course, he did privilege his children whether he realized it or not. Before the death of Orlana, his children were all given green tunics before earning them. Hale remembered Orlac carrying the baby, wrapped in her green tunic. She would have earned it anyway, but it was still against Orlac's principles.

Orlac was advised most closely by the sorceress Magnaih. She was a mysterious woman, whose age Hale couldn't quite place. She spoke about the world as if she'd been around for Demise's battle against the Goddess Hylia, but she looked younger than Hale. She found Orlac when he was a young mercenary within the Lesser Dragon Order and groomed him to lead the order. His other advisor was the disgraced Sheikah, Ifga LeFalco. Although Hale rarely saw him around the castle.

The Steel Garden wasn't what it used to be. The pale blue floor was worn and most of it broken, revealing dirt underneath. Orlac had the boys trained there all the same. The tradition that the Hylian Knights followed saw them thrust their sparring swords into the green pedestal that surrounded the pit. Most of the swords still had a decent edge.

From the walkway to the Steel Garden, Hale could see the graves of Orlac's daughters, his wife, and the other fallen members of the tribe. Hale heard the chop of steel on wood and looked over to see Orlac was using a wooden staff to fight his son Brint, who had a sword. Orlac was holding the stick like it was a short sword.

"Spear!" Orlac shouted to the boy as he changed his grip from a sword to that of a spear. Orlac jabbed at his son as if he were being attacked by a spear, and the boy blocked his jabs skillfully. Orlac was pleased by his defense.

Brint was nine years old. He'd forgotten the boy's birthday, but he was born during the summer. Brint was the youngest, and now only child of Orlac. He had his father's dark hair and green eyes. His mother, Orlac's third wife Aisling, was blonde with blue eyes.

"Staff!" Orlac spun the stick as if it were a staff and began striking at the boy, first to the left and then to the right. The boy was having trouble keeping up with the leader's strikes. Orlac changed the strategy and jabbed the boy in the chest, knocking him down. Orlac stood above him, raising the staff for a killing blow.

"Keep practicing." Orlac said to the boy, lowering the stick and helping the boy to his feet. Orlac brushed the dirt off of the boy and kissed him on the forehead. He then patted him on the back and motioned for him to leave. Orlac grabbed his canteen from off of the ground and took a drink, he then spotted Hale. Hale's heart began to race as Orlac walked over.

"I see you've returned. What have you brought us?" Orlac asked Hale. Hale took a deep breath and said the only thing he could think to say. "My lord…" "Where is Garrett?" Orlac interrupted him.

"My lord, could we speak inside?" Hale asked Orlac softly. Orlac's breath quickened. He grabbed Hale's tunic and dragged him just inside the atrium. "Where is he, Hale?" Orlac asked Hale, commanding him to answer. "He's dead, my lord." Mato interrupted.

Orlac backed away from Hale and turned away. Hale couldn't see the pain his leader's eyes, but he knew the feared leader of the order was wrestling with a barrage of emotions. Anger, sadness, regret. Hale cursed Mato for breaking the news in such a cruel and tactless way.

"How?" Orlac asked, his voice solid. He stood tall. Hale suspected that he'd repressed the emotions long enough to decide what to do next. "The shipment from Nulea had barrels of bomb powder…" Hale said, thinking quickly about whether or not he should lie and blame the explosion on lightning. He decided to tell the truth. "It was somehow set off by one of the Nuleans." Hale admitted.

"Somehow? Nuleans? Did they bring an army? Your answers tell me nothing! My son is dead!" Orlac screamed at Hale. "Who was there last night?" Orlac growled.

"Captain Likra and two young men." Hale was prevented from speaking any further. "Likra wasn't cooperating so I signaled the Bokoblins to kill the boys." Mato said nervously. Hale realized Mato felt like this was his fault. The boy needs to bite his tongue or he's going to be the one Orlac makes pay for this. "Garrett and I fought Likra, while the Bokoblins killed the others. We stabbed him so many times. We assumed he was dead; we didn't confirm the kill."

Hale knew that Mato wasn't telling the whole story. Hale was the last person to deal with Likra. He's the one who didn't confirm the kill, and even if he had there were two other people that could have survived. Bokoblins don't confirm kills, either one of the other two could have done it just as likely as Likra.

"Is this true, Hale?" Orlac asked as he unsheathed his dagger. Hale was frozen. Was Mato trying to repay Hale for letting him sleep in the carriage? For goodness sake boy, you don't owe anybody your life for such a small favor. "Hale?" Orlac interrupted his train of thought." "Yes." Hale responded.

Orlac raised his dagger, Hale's hand seized Orlac's wrist involuntarily. Hale hated the boy for lying, but would spare Hale's life. "Hale?" Orlac growled, his eyes now wide, as if her were trying to bore through Hale's soul.

Hale let go of Orlac's wrist, but his commander still required an answer. Hale continued to say nothing, he was overwhelmed and unable to formulate any coherent explanation. Mato never flinched, he was going to take his punishment like a man.

"A quick death is too good for such a mistake." Hale finally coughed out something that made sense. "I'll escort the boy to the dungeon myself. I'll find the darkest and coldest cell." Orlac sheathed the dagger, his eyes moved to Mato.

"Take him away. I have to prepare my son for his burial." Orlac said. "My lord." Hale interrupted. It wasn't customary for Orlac to perform such tasks. "Do as I command!" Orlac shouted back. Hale grabbed Mato's arm and led him inside the castle. Outside, Hale could hear thunder rumbling. Beautiful days don't seem to last.


End file.
